A woman was running down the sidewalk, Steve spectated her from his spot next to the classroom window. This Latin lesson could not have been more boring. As Ms Crusoe was writing down more vocabulary, Steve took a glance at the digital clock on his phone: forty more minutes of 'education', a cheap substitution for sleep pills. He could not wait to go home, jerk off and have his well deserved weekend.
"Steve, you know this", Ms Crusoe called him.
Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!, Steve thought.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?"
He wouldn't save himself here.
"'Fight', how do we say that in Latin?" The teacher looked disappointed.
"I... don't know", Steve admitted.
Ms Crusoe sighed and went on to ask someone else the same question. Doesn't matter, Steve thought, one more year and then he wouldn't have to take Latin anymore.
He looked around the room: some girls were chattering in the front, diagonally opposed from him; some boys, whom he didn't know on a personal level were laughing about something. Hopefully not him not knowing the vocabulary. Only one person sat in the last row with Steve, Amy Crews, simultaneously the smartest and hottest girl in school. If he had a dollar for every time he'd jerked off to her Instagram, he wouldn't have to sit in Latin class (okay, maybe that was slightly exaggerated). He got hard already just thinking about her lewd photos with her cute smile and notable boobs.
As Steve looked at her, Amy Crews was doing something excitingly surprising. She slowly moved her left hand towards her black jeans, seemingly not noticing his spying on her.